Afterimage
by Dizzydodo
Summary: They've been home for days now, but Leonard isn't sure he'll ever shake the feeling of that other Spock rifling through his thoughts. Post Mirror Mirror, pre-relationship.


A.N. : T for slight language, light angst considering the subject material, and happy ending for all. Not a particularly deep character exploration, but it just wouldn't leave me alone. Can be read as either Spock and Bones Prime or Nu, I really couldn't decide as I was writing but since it was the originals that made me ship it I skew toward them naturally. ^.^

Enjoy!

Even days after the fact Leonard swore he could still feel the Other combing through his thoughts, sorting and discarding his emotions, viciously yanking out memories he had carefully committed to the deepest depths of his mind and planting others Leonard was certain had never happened but that made him shudder to imagine.

It wasn't Spock he knew, but it had worn Spock's face, had his voice, mannerisms… the unique touch-telepathy that Spock had only ever used in cases of direst need and then only reluctantly. Sitting alone in his quiet office Leonard could admit that his failure to attend the mandatory debriefing had nothing to do with Ensign Vega's sudden onset fever. The thought of sitting across from commander Spock, looking into the eyes that were so much gentler yet every bit as intense as the Other, hearing the measured cadence of his tone as he reported on the events that had occurred during their absence had Leonard breaking out in a cold sweat.

Jim hadn't pressed him, thank the lord, but Leonard had loathed the depth of understanding in his eyes and that lilt in his voice when he had said "Take some time, Bones, get some rest. I'll need your report before the quarterly transmission next week. Mark it for captain's eyes only."

A steady "Aye, sir" had been all he could manage without erupting into a thoroughly inappropriate temper. He wasn't a child to be coddled, dammit, he was lieutenant-commander McCoy of the U.S.S. _Enterprise_ and he was going to pull himself together tonight and have that report filed by noon tomorrow latest.

His fingers still hovered uselessly above the board, every other detail painstakingly recorded for later review; it was only that time in medbay he had yet to write. Professional detachment had never come easy to Leonard, he felt too deeply, always trying to comfort and allay. It served him well here on the _Enterprise_ , his patients opened up to him knowing full well he'd lecture them for their fool stunts after he was certain they were cared for. That same quality worked against him now, compromising his ability to lay out his experience in simple, rational terms.

The door chimed and Leonard startled, pushing back from his desk briskly and scrambling to his feet. He couldn't say what instinct it was, maybe something left behind- He crushed that thought before it had time to sink in, but he knew who waited beyond the door and was not eager to have this discussion now.

 _If wishes were horses, beggars would ride_. "Door's not locked."

He squared his shoulders, lifting his chin and trying for his best belligerent expression. After thirty-some years of practice, his best was a far sight better than most.

The door slid open to reveal Spock hovering uncertainly beyond the threshold, if someone whose feet were planted so firmly on the Earth could be said to 'hover', and if 'uncertainty' was something Vulcans ever felt. "Am I to take it that I may enter, doctor?"

"You may take it." Leonard returned blandly, arching a strong brow. How much did he know? Spock had been the first to greet him when they stepped off the transporter, offering a solid arm for support that Leonard had shied away from like it was a hissing serpent. Someone so damnably observant as Spock wouldn't have missed the way he was careful to keep Jim between them, how he had briefly stumbled when Spock addressed him directly over the space between.

Spock paused before stepping slowly across the threshold; Leonard could almost see his mirror counterpart then, that same deliberation of movement, intention writ in every line of his body. He banished the image forcibly, letting his aggravation leak into his voice. "Do you need something, Mr. Spock? I have reports pilin' up, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't beat around the bush."

The Vulcan considered him for a long moment, dark eyes meeting light across the suddenly too small expanse of his desk. Leonard felt his breath come short, something new and infinitely more disturbing than fear creeping through his veins. He was warped, twisted, obviously the Other had left something behind when he had wrenched himself from Leonard's private thoughts. It was the only thing that could explain how he could still feel the magnetic pull of that gaze.

"I thought perhaps I had said something to offend before you left for Halkan, doctor."

Leonard snorted, trying for the needling tone that always put Spock on the defensive, "Not a day goes by you don't say something to offend me, Hobgoblin."

Spock continued as though he had never spoken, eyes roving over his body, weighing him in a balance Leonard couldn't begin to guess at. "After reviewing my memories carefully I can think of no such instances. I can only conclude that your unusual antipathy to my presence is a result of-"

"My antipathy to your presence is the only constant aboard this ship, Spock." He forced dry amusement into his tone, startled that the Vulcan could read him so easily. It came as no surprise that Spock had picked up on his nervousness, neither the tension that seized him now as they stood together in close quarters. What disturbed him was the implication that Spock sensed his company had not always been so unwelcome. Leonard couldn't recall a time they hadn't bickered like cats and dogs. From day one they had been at each other's throats, the first officer and the healer ever at odds.

It had taken them only a matter of days to settle into a comfortable routine of check and counter-check, at times arguing with genuine heat, sometimes purely for the comfort of habit. Somewhere along the way he had developed a curious respect for the Vulcan though it would have taken a veritable regiment of torture devices to make Leonard admit it. Except that apparently he never had to; Spock had known. He had known and never given any sign of it. Now he was disregarding Leonard's every attempt to dodge his inconvenient questions. Too observant, he and Jim both.

Spock's head tilted, gaze turning distant in that way he had whenever he was piecing facts and supposition together, still trying to give the appearance of being engaged but obviously millions of miles away.

Leonard didn't like it, worried that Spock would jump to all the right conclusions: "I'm glad we cleared that up. Now if you'll be so good as to show yourself out of my office, I need to finish up my report."

"You were absent from the debriefing."

"Very astute." Leonard snapped, "Didn't take those absurd Vulcan senses to notice it, I bet."

Spock shifted slightly, leaning the smallest bit closer and suddenly it was too much. He had to stand, had to get out to the open space of the medbay and an environment he could control. The trouble would be getting past a six foot two impediment without so much as brushing his sleeve.

Alternatively, he could shove his way out like a bull in a china shop. Spock would hardly expect anything else from his overwrought crewmate. God, he had to get _out_ because Spock just wouldn't look away and memories he was sure shouldn't be his were filtering in: slender hands sweeping aside the flasks on his desk, the spill of acid, a familiar stain… except there was no discoloration on this desk and while he knew the hands in his vision very well, this Spock's hands were smooth and unmarked.

Meaning the Other hadn't only taken something from him but left fragments behind.

Leonard stood and circled his desk briskly, trying to eke past Spock without making contact, hating himself for being such an abject coward when it counted. It wasn't Spock's fault, it wouldn't happen again, all he had to do was file this report and he could bury all memory of it in the darkest corners of his mind never to be examined or discussed again.

Spock moved too quickly for him to follow, one hand shooting out in a placating gesture that nearly made him flinch, drawing him up just an inch short of the entrance.

"Dr. McCoy-"

That was never good. Spock only ever employed both his title and name when he was preparing to pull rank.

"Your distress is palpable-"

 _Touch-telepath_.

A new thought intruded, something that chilled Leonard to his very marrow. What if whatever that Other had done to him echoed somehow in this universe? There were so many other similarities…

He could see the slight widening of Spock's eyes, a cue even Jim might have missed but that Leonard never would. He had spent too many days staring down the first officer not to catch every minute shift in his expressions.

"You already know."

With the spoken words came a sense of peace; he had nothing to hide from Spock. Someone else aboard knew what he was experiencing, and if Spock's still-steady gaze was anything to go by, thought no less of him for his lingering anxiety.

"Is there some way I may be of assistance?"

Leonard slumped, heaving a sigh of mingled relief and resignation, "No. I'm all right, Spock."

"Your definition of "all right" is far from what the Enterprise's data bank describes. I find it curious that you should employ that term when it is so far from the truth. "

There it was, the gentle attempt to draw him into banter. Anyone that knew Spock at all was very familiar with his particular brand of insolence, Leonard was better acquainted with it than most. Unfortunately even a rare flash of humor wasn't enough to distract him from the images and sounds filtering through his brain somewhere at the periphery. What he needed was another few hours of solitude, just himself and his shadow.

"Us humans, always so inexact, spillin' our emotions all over your orderly ship. How do you cope, Mr. Spock?"

It wasn't his best parry, but Spock picked up the gauntlet fast enough. "Frequent meditation, doctor. A pastime I believe humans would do well to adopt."

The pointed look that accompanied the statement said one human in particular would greatly benefit. It was enough to drag a laugh out of Leonard, clipped and harsh though it was.

"I've told you too many times to count that humans aren't creatures of reason. We seldom do what's best for us." He snorted, "Sometimes the opposite."

"Perhaps this once you could discard the custom, Leonard. I would be pleased to assist."

He was gone before Leonard had a chance to process his parting words and the silence that fell was deafening in its intensity. Those final words drowned out the cacophony of noise in his head, replacing the memories that weren't with something far more tangible.

Spock had called him by name, more than that, he had carefully implied a concern for Leonard's welfare beyond his capacity as a member of the crew. And 'pleased' was a word that sent Vulcans hissing and scurrying like cats flicked with water, hardly meant to be dropped casually. What had astonished him was that for a moment with Spock's hand hovering just above his skin, never touching, only holding him still with the mere promise of it, he had forgotten his lingering fear.

Whatever their similarities on the surface, Spock was not his mirror image, and Leonard wasn't about to lose the friendship they had spent so many years cultivating for the sake of a damned memory. It would take some time before he could pull his thoughts away from what had happened over there, and he had no way of knowing how long it would be before he could think of the Vulcan mind meld without a tremor, but in the space of a few minutes Spock had set Leonard at ease in his company once more.

Against his better judgment, Leonard began to wonder exactly what he could do in a few hours of meditative exercises. Five more minutes of staring blankly at the door and he had finally worked up the determination to step out of his office and head for Spock's quarters. Humans seldom did what was best for themselves, that much was true but Spock had cared enough in his own way to offer a chance at breaking that pattern.

For the sake of their often tumultuous friendship, Leonard resolved to try. The alternative was alienating Spock for an offense he had not committed, and somehow the idea of that twisted Leonard's guts in a way he didn't like to dwell on. For all they bickered like an old married couple, he had more than once put his life on the line for the Vulcan, and that favor had been returned again and again.

It was those memories he chose to focus on as he finally came to stand before the door to Spock's quarters. It was their easy banter and years of rivalry he remembered as he pressed the chime to warn Spock he was entering, and it was the soft, almost tender way Spock had said his name not ten minutes past that echoed in his ears as the door hissed open to reveal the object of his thoughts.

"Assuming I was willing to try your meditation, and I'm not saying I am, when could we start?" He met Spock's gaze, arms wrapped protectively about himself. He dropped them as soon as he recognized the defensive gesture for what it was, but Spock had always read him like an open book. He stepped away from the door, offering Leonard the choice of entering but never insisting.

"Immediately if you wish."

One breath. Two. Leonard slid by him, sleeves brushing casually against Spock's own. The contact was electric, but not overwhelming as he had half-feared. The door slid shut behind him and while his pulse was still a bit on the quick end, he wasn't sure how much of his nerves were a result of their adventure and how much was the thrill of finally being welcomed into Spock's domain.

"Sure you're not too busy?"

"Experience has taught me to make time for friends-"

"We're friends now?" Leonard snorted, some of his old vinegar returning with the sheer familiarity of staring Spock down like this.

"Of many years, Leonard." Spock's brow arched, inviting a contradiction he wasn't going to hear.

Embarrassed at being caught out so easily, Leonard quickly redirected the conversation. "All right, so where do we start? And if you tell me it's sitting on that floor then I'm gone."

He didn't smile, Spock seldom did, but Leonard swore he could feel the self-satisfaction radiating from him. It wouldn't last, he was sure; if Spock wasn't tearing his neatly arranged out by the end of the hour then his name wasn't Leonard H. McCoy. For now though he took the seat Spock indicated, flashing his first grin in nearly a week at the thought.

"I'd lay credits you're going to regret this." Leonard said smugly, surprised at how easily the rhythm between them was coming back to him. All this time he had spent avoiding Spock when the cure for his ills was turning out to be exactly the opposite. Not that he would ever say as much; between Spock and his already monstrous ego there was little enough space in the room to begin with. Much more and they might need separate quarters.

"If Vulcans were inclined to bet, doctor, I would take your credits."

"A challenge."

"A statement of fact."

Much as he would have loved to prove Spock wrong, this once he wanted him to be right, wanted to know that Spock, _his_ Spock, wouldn't give up on him. He was getting older, but he could still learn a new trick or two.

"Shall we begin?"

Leonard cleared his throat, settling more comfortably into his chair. "Please."

Basking in the even, effortlessly soothing cadence of Spock's voice offering directions and advice, Leonard regretted that they hadn't tried this sooner. Of course, had he ever asked Spock likely would have volunteered, but that would have required them to call truce and actually admit to respecting each other first. Besides, then he would have been deprived of the memory of Spock's earnest expression as he had made the offer.

Something in the way Spock had looked at him then, something in his voice as he had addressed Leonard by name made the image seem especially sweet. As he gradually sank into his own thoughts per Spock's instructions, it was that scene he circled back to again and again without quite knowing why. For the moment there were other things clamoring to be remembered, all of them held at bay by the sound of his own voice murmured in Spock's fondest tone.

When exactly Spock had decided he was fond of him, Leonard wasn't sure, but over their hours together like this he intended to tease it out. And maybe if Spock bothered to care about those sort of things, Leonard would even admit that he was fond of him too, no obscure or excruciating torture devices required. In time he would even work up the gumption to admit it was a little more than fondness, but that had already been years in the making on his part and he wasn't going to surrender that secret easily.

Spock shifted his weight and Leonard's eyes flew open, surprised to find the room considerably darker than when they had begun, the time glowing back at him was a couple hours past when he had expected to leave. His spine ached from the strange position he had curled himself into, hand asleep where he had rested on it.

"Spock?" He croaked, wetting his dry throat- had he been _snoring_? He'd never live it down.

"Dr. McCoy." Spock glanced up from the PADD in his hand, all solicitousness. "You fell asleep sometime during our practice. Given your recent struggle with insomnia, I thought you would prefer to rest." He didn't seem put out, completely at ease with his colleague commandeering a chair and setting up camp in his personal quarters. Reluctantly Leonard had to admit he had slept better here with kinks and all than he had in his own bed recently.

Damn. There was every chance he'd be parting with that secret sooner rather than later.

"Thanks, Spock." It wasn't about the nap or the chair, the invitation or the talk they'd had, but it was all of those things combined and more.

Fortunately Spock seemed to understand, turning back to his PADD, a faint green blush tipping his ears as he softly offered a "You're welcome, doctor."


End file.
